


Between The Mountains And The Moon

by canadianwheatpirates



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Depression, Established Relationship, F/F, please lower your expectations accordingly, rated m for gore, there is no smut here only gore, vampire!Shaw, werewolf!Root
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-01-23
Packaged: 2019-10-15 05:53:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17523119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canadianwheatpirates/pseuds/canadianwheatpirates
Summary: "The wolf growls, the vibration shaking through the car. Bear startles awake and starts to bark; she reaches back to quiet him and the wolf — it’s Root, it has to be — takes off up the road, loping away from them."Root goes missing after a full moon. Shaw sets out to find her.





	Between The Mountains And The Moon

**Author's Note:**

> Title nicked from Mountains by Devilskin. It and the pretentious opening quote were both on the playlist for this fic.
> 
> None of the fics in this collection follow on from each other (if they do, they'll be in a series), but this is technically post-In The Tawny Eyes Of The Hunter for those who care about continuity. It's a long way post, as in, they've been together for a while. What are timelines.

_Cover me with snow, freeze me to death; forever I’ll lay in the alpine bed. —_  Cellar Darling, Avalanche.

 

“I need to borrow your dog.”

“Good afternoon Ms Shaw.” Finch raises an eyebrow as she sits down opposite him. There’s a plaque on his desk that reads ‘librarian of the year’. “Why? It must be urgent for you to be out at this hour.”

“I know.” While she can survive daylight, there’s no hiding how dead she is; it usually doesn’t go well. She lowers her voice. “Root hasn’t come back from upstate. I need a tracker.”

To his credit, he only pales a little. “Oh dear.” He leans in closer, warily eyeing the people around them. “You know she really shouldn’t be running wild during the full moon. It only exacerbates our underlying problems.”

Shaw bites her tongue. It’s true that Root has been struggling lately, but it’s also none of his damn business — and not her place to tell Root what to do, either.

“I should come with you,” he continues. “I can track better than Bear can, and if it comes to a fight…”

“Don’t. I’ll be travelling cross country, and you’re still recovering.” The full moon had passed a few days ago — which is why Root should be back by now — but she’s not about to make a middle-aged, chronically injured man go running around the woods with her.

He frowns. “Unfortunately, you’re right. Bear!”

The dog stands up at the call, unfolding himself from under the desk. Finch hands over the leash, and Bear wags his tail.

“Behave yourself.” He turns from Bear to Shaw. “Good luck,” he adds.

 

There are always new plants on Carter’s desk when she drops by the precinct. Today it’s mostly cacti, though there are a couple of bonsai trees with inch-wide oranges hanging from their branches.

“Hey.” She smiles when Carter looks up at her, but quickly schools it back into her resting frown. “You said you had something for me?”

“Yup.” She pulls open a desk drawer and grabs a small pot of green ointment. “You’re gonna be out in the forests, so the trees might be able to help you if you get lost,” she explains as she hands it over.

“How does it work?”

“Put some on your hand and touch the trunk. And be polite.”

Shaw huffs at the implication, but pockets the container. “Thanks.” She nods to Carter and turns to leave, eager to get out of the police station before anyone thinks she belongs in the morgue instead.

“Shaw,” Carter calls after her, and she looks back over her shoulder. “Find her before she kills someone.”

 

Bear snuffles in his sleep, curled up right in front of one of the heating vents, and she smiles slightly. Running the radiator doesn’t make a difference to her, but it’s good that he’s comfy. Night has long since fallen, and the skies are cloudy. They might bring more snow tomorrow; she’ll have to keep that in mind.

There’s a flash of reflected light by the roadside and she hits the brakes hard. Snow flies as the animal comes bounding out onto the road — a huge, brown wolf. It stalks closer to the car, regarding it with interest. She stares back; something about it is... off, like it moves with too much purpose.

Slowly, she reaches for the door handle.

The wolf growls, the vibration shaking through the car. Bear startles awake and starts to bark; she reaches back to quiet him and the wolf — it’s Root, it has to be — takes off up the road, loping away from them.

“Shit. Shit shit shit,” she mutters, slamming her foot down on the accelerator. Root comes back into view; she looks back, then leaps off the side of the road.

“Fuck!” The car skids to a halt and Shaw thumps the steering wheel. Jumping out after Root would be too dangerous, especially since it would mean leaving Bear behind.

 

The sun is just starting to crack the horizon as she turns onto a dirt side road. Even if Root has been running around as a wolf this whole time, she’ll still have some human instincts; she’s more than smart enough to break into houses for food.

A man is waiting outside the farmhouse when she pulls up to it, shotgun held nonchalantly over his shoulder. “And who’re you?” he calls as she climbs out of the car.

“I’m with the wildlife preservation agency.” She flashes a badge at him and opens the back door for Bear. “Been getting reports of abnormal animal behaviour in this area.”

He scratches his chin. “Well, looks like a wolf got into my chickens last night. The coop was ripped right open.”

“Mind if I take a look?”

He shrugs and leads her around the back of the house. The coop is smashed, its door hanging from one hinge. In front of it the snow is churned up with dirt and blood and feathers. She kneels down, digs out a patch of red-flecked snow and sniffs at it. Just chicken.

“Snuiven,” she tells Bear, pointing to the coop. He trots over to it and starts to sniff. She stands back up and turns to the farmer. “Barricade your doors tonight. I don’t think it’ll come back, but there’s a chance.”

He opens his mouth to argue, but Bear barks an interruption and she jogs over to him. There are tracks in the snow, pawprints as big as her hand, leading towards the forest.

“There you are,” she murmurs.

 

She shields her eyes and peers deeper into the woods. They’d followed the trail as far as they could, but the new snowfall has thoroughly covered the tracks. Bear whines and snuffles around, then trots back over to her, ears down. She curses under her breath; leave it to Root to go AWOL in fucking winter.

She sets her gear down at the base of a tree. Most of the stuff she’s packed isn’t for her; she’s hardy. But there are clothes for Root, and food — and a rifle in case things go really wrong.

Cold trail in the middle of the forest. Okay. She could retreat to the car, but that would be going straight back to square one. Root isn't likely to attack the same place twice (despite what she'd told the farmer), and she's not sure she's lucky enough to get a second chance.

 _The trees might be able to help you_ , she remembers, and tugs the pack open. The ointment is buried under the rest of the stuff, but she quickly fishes it out. It’s thick and smells strongly of herbs. She smears it onto her hand and presses her palm to the  tree’s trunk.

“Uh. Hi?” she asks, unsure how to get its attention.

Its branches creak, and a dusting of snow falls off them.

“Hi. Sorry to bother you. Looking for a wolf that was going about northwest from here. Have you… noticed… anything?” This feels incredibly stupid.

The tree groans again. Not helpful. Wait, maybe it doesn’t know what northwest means?

“Uh. Ground disturbance going which way?”

 _TOWARDS THE VANISHING SUN_. The word echoes through her mind and she winces a little at the intrusion.

“Right. Thanks.” She steps back and scrapes up a handful of snow to wash the ointment off her hands. How the fuck does Carter put up with that all the time? Still, she has a direction again: west.

She whistles to Bear as she shoves the jar back in her pack. They should get moving; any time spent waiting is time that Root gets further away.

 

She smells the blood before they reach the edge of the trees. It’s not Root’s, thankfully, but it can’t be a good sign. She sets her jaw and follows the new trail.

Sure enough, the trees break into a field. It was home to a cow not too long ago; the corpse lies on its side, staining the snow around it red. Root has broken its neck, she sees as she comes closer. Its belly is ripped open, but the air is too cold for flies to swarm the exposed viscera; instead, frost crawls along its intestines. Bear yips and butts at her leg, and she pats his head. Bloody pawprints as big as her hand lead off at an angle, plunging back into the woods.

“At least she’ll be easy to follow, huh?” she says to Bear, and he barks in agreement.

 

Even as the pawprints fade and the sun sets, Root is easy to track; if there’s one thing she knows, it’s the smell of blood. They dash through the forest, anxious to catch her before she slips away again.

Movement flickers up again, brown fur dark against the moonlit snow. Shaw slows, waving a hand at Bear; the last thing they need is to take Root by surprise. She hasn’t noticed them yet, sniffing at the base of a tree, and Shaw creeps closer.

Truth be told, she hadn’t worked out what she was going to do once she  _found_  Root. Trying to plan earlier was no good; there were too many variables in play. Now, though, she needs to come up with something — fast.

“Stay,” she tells Bear, and Root whips around. Shaw lets the rifle slide off her shoulder and fall to the ground, her pack following it a moment later.

Root snarls as she steps forward.

She reaches out, her hand turned palm upward.

“Root,” she says. “It’s time to come home.”

Root eyes her hand warily, then whines and curls inwards. She glances away. The sight of transformation has never been a problem for her, but... this should be private. Bones crack as Root’s joints turn inside out; the echo fades, and a soft sob tells her it’s over.

“Go,” she says to Bear. He dashes over to where Root sits, naked and shivering in the snow. He licks her face and she wraps her arms around him. Shaw grabs the pack and runs to her side. She pulls out a jacket and drapes it over Root’s shoulders. Root mumbles something into Bear’s fur; Shaw kneels down beside her and she lifts her head.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “Everything’s just so hard.”

“I know.” She rests a hand on Root’s shoulder for a moment. “We can figure it out when we get back. Right now, though, you need to get dressed; you’re gonna freeze without your fur.”

Root lets Shaw help her to her feet. “Being a wolf was so much simpler, I just… got stuck.”

Shaw nods and hands her a pair of fleece pants; Root takes them with shaking hands, and she’s glad she packed clothing without buttons or zippers. She knows Root doesn’t expect her to comfort her, just hear her. “Are you up to putting boots on?”

Root flexes her fingers and looks at them like she’s never seen them before. “I… don't think so.”

“Gonna have to carry you so that your toes don’t get frostbite.”

“That's okay. Probably faster.” She sags, and Shaw can see that the post-transformation exhaustion is starting to hit; she's going to spend days in bed after this.

Shaw swings the backpack up onto her shoulders. Root hums contentedly as she scoops her up. She squirms slightly, getting comfy in Shaw’s arms, and closes her eyes. Shaw takes a moment to figure out her bearings, to find the direction that will take her back to the car the quickest; when she’s sure, she sets off. Bear trots through the snow beside her, tail wagging, and she smiles at him. They’re all happy to be going home.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I'd love to hear what you liked so that I can write more of it!


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